SoulBound
by Caelum Black
Summary: "I won't let anyone else die." Shiro was going to stand by those words come hell or high water, even if he had to resort to a risky, complicated, time-consuming, and near-impossible plan to do it. There would be a happy ending to this story. (A "for the sake of my continued sanity, let's try bringing back Shiro and Mikoto!" fanfic). Eventually Mikoto and Homra centric.
1. Prologue

**K Fanfic:**** SoulBound**

**Characters: **It's supposed to be Mikoto and HOMRA centric, with side doses of Munakata and Fushimi, and guest appearances by a variety of others. I _will_ force it back on that path soon, but somehow, the beginning chapters got hijacked by Shiro and the Gold King, of all people. _You have been warned!_

**Pairings:** Lots of bromance between Mikoto and just about everyone else. If I do add in an actual pairing, it will probably be YataxMikoto, with a helping of KusanagixMikoto and MunakataxMikoto, but I don't know yet.

**Summary:** "I won't let anyone else die." Shiro was going to stand by those words come hell or high water, even if he had to resort to a risky, complicated, time-consuming, and near-impossible plan to do it. There _would_ be a happy ending to this story. (A "for the sake of my continued sanity, let's try bringing back Shiro and Mikoto!" fanfic)

**Author's Note:** This was written entirely for my own benefit, in order to straighten out my head and emotions when it came to K killing off my all time favorite character, Mikoto, and thus wrecking Homra, my all time favorite clan (it was like bowling, all the pins being knocked down with one strike ;_;). Consider it an attempt to purge my K-induced angst and emotional turmoil. It's my very first fanfic, and it's turning out to be **epic** in length, with lots of chapters and side drabbles and unexpected plot developments (and when I say 'unexpected', I mean by _me_.). I'm posting it here a bit at a time on the off chance that someone out there might find _some_ level of enjoyment from this lumbering monstrosity, but I won't get my hopes up. Feel free to reach out to me with any comments, feedback, suggestions, etc. (But please be nice! As I said, I haven't ever written one of these before, so I'm more than a little nervous here! T-T) Encouragements are also _most_ welcome!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not K, not its characters, and not any of the other animes I might have drawn from for character inspiration.

**_Beware_**_:_ The first few chapters are a bit slow and information dense. They're _completely necessary_ in order to build the framework for the rest of the story, but I wouldn't call them indicative of the tone of the later chapters, as they'll be much more character and relationship based. If you can brave your way through these first few chapters, I promise it gets better! ^.^

Prologue:

_December 17th_

Adolf K. Weismann, now Isana Yashiro, stood at the bottom of the flight of stone steps that would lead him to the battleground of the Red and Blue Kings, gazing up at the two Swords of Damocles clashing in the air. Just from looking at them, he could tell how this situation would be ending. The Red King's Sword was deteriorating rapidly, and had been for some time.

Shiro sighed, a sad smile gracing his lips. He truly didn't want anyone else to die during this conflict, and there was but one way that he could see to achieve such a goal. He could just imagine the lecture that the Lieutenant would be giving him if he knew, words like "reckless", "impossible", and "suicidal fool" would surely be used in abundance. But there was no other path that Shiro could find that led to an ending that would be even remotely happy.

Kuroh's words echoed in his head, his description of the Red Clan being the one with the strongest bonds serving to cement his decision and harden his resolve. It didn't matter that the risks where high and possibility of success low. He would do everything in his not inconsiderable power as the First King to prevent the death of anyone else but the one trapped inside him.

A rough jerk from said Colorless King startled him back into motion. This was no time to be standing about daydreaming. They were all running too short on time as it was. He began to steadily make his way up the stone staircase, the steps of his plan locked firmly in his mind.

"Mission Miracle Save, start!"

* * *

Ten minutes later found Shiro floating in the sky above the Red and Blue Kings, once more a soul without a body. So far, his plan seemed to be working out quite well. He had managed to catch both of the Kings by surprise when he dropped down on them from above. His first course of action had been to use his handy umbrella to force the Blue King back a distance, leaving him alone with the Red King. The exhaustion on the other King's face and the burned, blackened skin of his right arm had Shiro wincing internally in sympathy. Convincing the other to kill him had been as simple as offering the option to him, which was to be expected. After all, the Red King had been doing everything in his power to accomplish just such a goal.

The entire plan had hinged on the Red King managing the feat of killing him before the Blue King could interfere, and he had succeeded. The moment his fist made contact with Shiro's chest, the Silver King acted. As he had with the Blue Clan's lieutenant earlier that day, he tuned into the spectrum of the Red King's biological wave, and quickly had it synched to his own. He took this process a step further than he had with Awashima, however, forcing the bond to dig deeper, past the physical body, wrapping it firmly around the Red King's soul. The process was completed in an instant, the glow that briefly resulted from it completely hidden within the light show caused by the Red King's final attack. Shiro had then let himself fall backwards, a content smile on his face, as his current body was vaporized in the flames of the Red Kings power, along with the corrupt soul of the Colorless King.

Presently, Shiro was simply waiting for the confrontation between the two down on the ground below him to reach its inevitable conclusion. As he floated above the crater, listening to the final exchange between the two Kings, he found himself glad yet again that he had chosen this path. The Red King truly inspired strong bonds between himself and other people. It wouldn't be just the Red Clan that would suffer if he were to die here, but the Blue King as well.

The peaceful smile on the Red King's face as he watched his Sword travel towards the ground, arms spread wide and trusting his fellow king and, dare Shiro think it, his _friend_, to do his duty and protect the things they both cared about, was heartbreaking to watch. But Shiro pushed such feelings aside, turning his concentration to the monumental task at hand. Even as the Blue King rushed forward, Shiro reached out with a mental hand for the newly formed bond between himself and the Red King. He grasped it firmly, and let his power flow into it, letting the charge build even as the Blue Kings sword pierced the Red King's chest. The moment the Red King began leaning on his fellow King's shoulder, Shiro sent that power spiraling into the Red King, simultaneously planting a kernel of his power into the physical body, while at the same time wrapping the rest around the Red King's soul in an intricate pattern that could be described as a web.

The moment that his heart stopped beating, Shiro began to pull, using the web to draw the Red King's soul towards him. This was what would be the most energy-consuming and risky part of this whole plan. Shiro was fighting directly against the order of the world, preventing a person's soul from following its natural path to the afterlife upon death, instead forcing it to remain in this world without the anchor of a living body. If he failed here, it would result in both of their souls being torn to shreds by the conflicting powers. He could hear a young girl screaming in the distance, but paid it no mind, steadily and inexorably drawing his fellow King's soul to himself, inch by painstaking inch. Once it reached him, an exhausted, dully shining red sphere of light, he quickly tucked the soul within his own, surrounding it with his power of inviobility and protecting it from outside influence. He was infinitely glad that the Red King wasn't conscious right now. He didn't have enough energy to contain a soul that was fighting him a second time today.

Shiro sighed, allowing himself to rest for a moment in preparation for the final step of the journey. As he floated tiredly above the school island, he allowed himself to carefully examine the soul that now resided inside of him. The Red King, no, his name was Suoh Mikoto, wasn't it? And the Blue King was Munakata Reisi. He let this surface knowledge flow from Mikoto to himself, never digging deeper, letting only the most basic of impressions and information travel between them. He truly had been out of touch with the world, hadn't he, if he didn't even know the names of his fellow Kings. He could now sense the state of mind that Mikoto had died in, feel the overwhelming _tiredness_ of the Red King, his devastating grief at the death of his friend Totsuka Tatara, as well as his quiet sadness at having to leave his precious people behind. But most of all, Shiro could feel the unrelenting resolve to protect those in his care, even from himself, no matter what the personal cost. Remembering Kuroh's description of this King, he smiled to himself. For someone who was supposed to be both ill-tempered and violence incarnate, he didn't seem to be a bad person.

Shiro was distracted from his musings by movement down below. Munakata appeared to have left the area, and in his place were Kuroh and Neko. He was glad to see that his two clansmen appeared to be alright (and, oh, didn't that have a nice ring to it, _his clansmen_?), but their search for him, and their despair when they were unable to find him, made his heart ache. He found himself smiling at Neko's refusal to believe him dead, and it only grew wider as Kuroh agreed with her. He watched them head towards the bridge with a sense of anticipation. Once everything was in place, he would definitely find his friends again, no matter what.

Just as Shiro was about to set off towards his next destination, he heard a chant in the distance, and noticed beautiful balls of red light rising up into the sky towards their position. 'These must have been the Red Clan's marks' he mused, watching the orbs float in the air around them in a beautiful display of light and color, only to be shocked as the power contained within them started to flow into the soul within his own. He could feel them bolstering Mikoto, each one adding to the King's battered strength, even if only by a fraction. This caused Shiro to grin happily, as it solved one of the problems he had been worried about. He'd been concerned that Mikoto might not make it to their destination, or have enough strength left to do what needed to be done once they reached it, but now the Red King's soul, while still exhausted and damaged, no longer seemed to be on the verge of going out like a candle flame when met with a gust of wind.

As the last of the red orbs faded away, Shiro drew his power about himself and began the laborious process of moving them towards the Gold King's Tower and the Dresden Slate housed within it. 'Now, here's to hoping the Lieutenant is as detail-oriented and thorough as he used to be.' And with that thought, the two Kings shot through the sky, appearing to any observers to be two shooting stars, one bright silver, the other a more subdued red, journeying together across the heavens.

* * *

Author's Note 2: And that's the prologue. Bravo if you managed to make it to the end of it and still want to continue reading this! I promise things pick up within the next few chapters! -.-;


	2. Chapter 1

**K Fanfic:**** SoulBound**

**Characters: **It's supposed to be Mikoto and HOMRA centric, with side doses of Munakata and Fushimi, and guest appearances by a variety of others. I _will_ force it back on that path soon, but somehow, the beginning chapters got hijacked by Shiro and the Gold King, of all people. _You have been warned!_

**Pairings:** Lots of bromance between Mikoto and just about everyone else. If I do add in an actual pairing, it will probably be YataxMikoto, with a helping of KusanagixMikoto and MunakataxMikoto, but I don't know yet.

**Summary:** "I won't let anyone else die." Shiro was going to stand by those words come hell or high water, even if he had to resort to a risky, complicated, time-consuming, and near-impossible plan to do it. There _would_ be a happy ending to this story. (A "for the sake of my continued sanity, let's try bringing back Shiro and Mikoto!" fanfic)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not K, not its characters, and not any of the other animes I might have drawn from for character inspiration.

**_Beware_**_:_ The first few chapters are a bit slow and information dense. They're _completely necessary_ in order to build the framework for the rest of the story, but I wouldn't call them indicative of the tone of the later chapters, as they'll be much more character and relationship based. If you can brave your way through these first few chapters, I promise it gets better! ^.^

* * *

Chapter 1: 

_December 17__th_

Kokujoji Daikaku, the Gold King, had not become the most powerful man in Japan by being lacking in intelligence. He was by no means the kind of scientific genius that his old friend Weismann was, but he was certainly not a stupid man either. He sensed it the moment the souls of the Silver and Red Kings arrived at the Dresden Slate, housing themselves within it. Upon further observation of this most unlikely of situations, he felt he had an inkling as to what Weismann was planning this time, and he found himself glad once again for his impeccable organization and logistical skills, as well as his penchant for following proper procedure. If what he suspected where true, then he had already taken the necessary preliminary steps needed to aid the two… refugees.

He had dispatched a team of his clansmen over a day ago to observe the situation at Ashinaka Gakuen from a safe distance, with the instructions to report back any relative information and to retrieve the bodies of any Kings who might die during the conflict. It was standard procedure for the bodies of all Kings to be placed in the custody of himself whenever possible, if for no other reason than to confirm the cause of death and prevent any chance at tampering by interfering individuals (before this was put into effect, there had been various organizations in the past who had attempted to use the dead bodies of Kings to further scientific or religious agendas. The results had been… unpleasant for those involved.) His clansmen had contacted him not long before sunset to confirm that they had retrieved the body of the Red King, Suoh Mikoto, via the use of one of their member's teleportation ability, and where returning to the Tower post-haste.

The Gold King glanced at the body of the Silver King, looking peaceful within the glass covered capsule. "You enjoy causing others trouble, don't you, Weismann?" The following sigh was the long suffering one of the perpetually beleaguered.

The Gold King allowed some of his power to travel down past the glass floor and into the Slate below his feet, reaching out to the two souls contained within it. He could sense Weismann clearly, wrapped protectively around the weak red light of Suoh. He appeared to be trying to communicate with the Red King, and Kokujoji took a moment to try and decipher the message, receiving a flurry of images and sensations instead of actual words, much to his surprise. Weismann seemed to be trying to pass on impressions of rest, safety, and the need to remain within the Slate. The closest the communication came to words revolved around pictures of various Red Clan members and, surprisingly, the Blue King, and the strong sense of Suoh needing to fight to stay where he was or they would be the ones to bear the consequences.

The Gold King was forced to withdraw his mind from the Slate upon the opening of the room's sliding doors. A group of his clansmen entered, each wearing their customary black and gold robes and usagi-shaped masks, and bearing a capsule similar to the one containing Weismann between them.

"Your Majesty, we have successfully retrieved the body of the Red King, Suoh Mikoto-sama." The apparent leader of the squad spoke up solemnly, bowing to his King.

"Good work. Place it on the Slate, then you may leave. You are all receiving a week's time off. Use it wisely. " The Gold King responded, equally grave, and the men hurried to comply, carrying the capsule across the room until it was positioned over the Slate, and then moving to take their leave, pausing only long enough to give their thanks to their King before exiting the room, leaving the Gold King alone in the cavernous space once more.

"Well, Weismann? Now what will you do?" Kokujoji muttered, looking down once more at the stone Slate below him. He had the feeling that this was what his old friend had been waiting for, and he was proven correct as the Slate began to glow with a silver light, which traveled up the capsule containing the Silver King's body, surrounding it and increasing in strength until it shone with the brightness of a small star. The Gold King watched as the light slowly died away, and the monitors attached to the capsule began to register signs of life. He quickly moved to open it, and then leaned in to observe his old friend. Weismann certainly looked worse for wear, coughing as he attempted to drag air into lungs that had gone quite some time without it, shaking and pale faced with fatigue.

"Weismann? Can you hear me? Do you need medical assistance?" Kokujoji spoke quickly to the one in the capsule, unsure as to how to aid him, as he was quite obviously not in the best of health.

"Lieutenant?" The response was said in a barely audible rasp between coughing fits, eyes prying themselves open to look at the speaker. Weismann gave a forced grin, trying to reassure Kokujoji without having to attempt to talk again. The Gold King found himself sighing for the umpteenth time since the start of this situation, moving to retrieve a glass of water from the dinner tray that had been brought to him earlier, before contenting himself with simply observing his friend for the time being, prepared to call for aid should his condition seem to worsen. Minutes passed, Weismann's coughs slowly easing into strained breaths, and while his trembling and apparent weakness didn't subside, he seemed to recover his bearings more and more with each passing moment. Finally, he turned his head towards the Gold King, issuing a much stronger grin this time.

"Hey there, Lieutenant. It's been a long time, hasn't it? Sorry for the unconventional entrance, but the situation was kind of an emergency!" Weismann said cheerfully.

"An emergency? Yes, I imagine that being turned into a bodiless soul, who in turn was carting about a second bodiless soul, would indeed count as an emergency situation, wouldn't it?" Kokujoji sighed in exasperation, before giving a small smirk. "So? What are you planning to do now? There is still the rather pressing matter of said second soul, and its corresponding body which is currently sitting less than two meters from our present location."

Weismann released a chuckle, which set him off into another minor coughing fit, and started to push himself up on trembling arms. "Wow, I wasn't expecting the bonds between my soul and this body to have deteriorated this much. And the lost muscle mass from just laying here sure isn't helping me, either."

"Bonds?" Kokujoji asked even as he moved to help his companion sit up. He then brought the glass of water to his friend's lips, helping him take small sips. Hopefully it would lessen the coughing.

"Yeah, the bonds between a body and soul are important, you know? You're aware that the brain is primarily responsible for allowing us to move our bodies, right? Well, the soul is also involved in that. The soul sends commands to the brain, which in turn directs the body. That's why a soulless body is a vegetable, as it were. The longer a soul is separated from the body, the more the connections between the two weaken, which in turn affects things like motor control." Weismann leaned against Kokujoji tiredly, pushing his long silver hair out of his eyes impatiently so that he could peer over at the second capsule in the room. He ignored the effort that he had to put into speaking in favor of one of his favorite pursuits, the sharing of knowledge.

"That does explain your current lack of coordination and strength. What do you intend to do with the Red King, then? He doesn't have your inviobility, you know. He's been dead more than long enough to sustain irreparable damage to his body, which would make it impossible to revive him." Kokujoji pointed out logically.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Lieutenant! I made sure to leave some of my power inside of his body when I was retrieving his soul. It's more than enough to have preserved him in the exact state in which he died, with no additional damage~. It will last for at least another few hours! Not that I want to risk putting this off for that long, though." Weismann responded cheerfully, still observing the other capsule with a critical eye.

"And 'this' would be what, exactly? Returning Suoh's soul to a body suffering a fatal injury would be counterproductive, I would imagine. He would only die again instantly." The Gold King replied dryly. It was always best to point out holes in any of Weismann's plans _before_ he  
had a chance to put them into practice.

"Yes, there is that." Weismann let out a sheepish chuckle, before continuing. "Unlike me, Mikoto won't be able to return to his body right away. I created a permanent clan bond between us that I can use to both help heal him as well as transfer his soul from the Slate back to his body. My first priority is to repair the internal damage caused by Munakata's sword strike. That will take a bit of time, though."

"And why is that?"

"You remember the soul bonds we were discussing earlier, right? Well, they have an impact on the bonds shared between Kings and their clansmen, as well as where a King gets their power from. A King's power isn't something which comes from their bodies, but instead comes from their soul and the astral plane. This is actually why both myself, and the corrupt Colorless King we just finished dealing with, could change bodies the way we did and yet still retain our abilities! As for Kings and their clans, the bonds actually exist primarily between the souls of the two individuals. A King sparks power in the soul of his clansman. The power is then continuously transferred from the soul to the body of the person, which is usually an almost instantaneous process. However, since Mikoto's soul is within the Slate right now, this is slowed down considerably." Weismann finished wearily.

"How much time are we speaking of, here? You said your power would only preserve Suoh's body for a few more hours. And are there any other requirements?" Kokujoji responded calmly. He had long ago gained the ability to wade through Weismann's babble and extract only the most significant and pressing aspects.

"Haha, that's where I will definitely need your help, Lieutenant. You see, as long as I am in close proximity to the Dresden Slate, say about 250 meters maximum, and Mikoto's body remains stationed here over the Slate, and thus close to his soul, I can send my power to Mikoto and both heal his internal injuries as well as keep him in relatively good condition, all things considered. The end result will be as if he was in a coma, with his muscle mass deteriorating and such, but no permanent damage will happen. The deterioration will be much more severe than a patient who was in a coma for a similar amount of time would suffer, however, as his body isn't actually _alive_, but rather being sustained by an outside source. I'll only be able to send him a certain amount of power, you see, so I'll need to focus it on the most vital aspects. I won't waste it on preserving muscle mass that he can eventually gain back on his own when I can be using it to heal his heart faster or maintain his organs and brain. Not only that, but the weakness of the bonds between his body and soul caused by such a long term separation will result in things like extreme exhaustion, physical weakness and dizziness, a weakening of the immune system, and severe long-term pain." Weismann chuckled sadly, gazing towards the other capsule. "This won't be an easy solution. This isn't fiction, and in real life, there is always a price to be paid for things like this. It's a type of equivalent exchange, as it were. It could take him years to make a full recovery. The only reason I'm not in the same boat as him is because of my role and abilities as the Silver King. A silver clansman just doesn't have the same level of absolute inviobility that I do, no matter how much of my power I push at them."

"Why would he bother? Or you, for that matter? There is no need for him to shoulder such a burden when he has already died. It would be easier for him to simply continue on to the afterlife. He fulfilled his duty as a King; there is no pressing reason to follow this path." Kokujoji pointed out skeptically.

"There is a reason. His precious family needs him." Weismann responded firmly. "The bonds that he shares with others aren't something that they can ever replace, nor are they likely to heal properly given time. And Suoh Mikoto isn't the type of person that would _willingly_ abandon those close to him when they needed him, even if he had to pay a price to do so." He sighed, before continuing, "I want to let them have a happy ending, Lieutenant. I don't want them to experience the pain of losing another precious person." Weismann gained a far-away, sad expression on his face, as though remembering past pain. Kokujoji recognized the look as one Weismann wore when thinking about the death of his older sister, Claudia. He hummed thoughtfully, willing to accept Weismann's reasoning for the time being.

"As to your question about time, it will take me about 3 months to heal the internal damage, with the situation being what it is." Weismann concluded after a moment of thought. "I'll leave any other injuries to your medical staff, as it would increase the amount of time needed if I healed them, and we are pushing it as it is. Afterwards, he will need to remain within that 250 meter radius I mentioned earlier, this time in regards to the Slate, for 3 weeks. The close proximity of the Slate will help to maintain and improve his weakened bonds, although only time can completely repair them. Even after the three weeks are up, he should still spend at least an hour a day with the Slate, and shouldn't go too far from it for a while; I'd say we're looking at somewhere between 2 and 6 more months for that, depending on his condition." Weismann finished his explanation, his voice barely a rasp by the end of it.

"You need food, drink, and rest. What needs to be done here before you can stop long enough to get them?" The Gold King asked. While they had been talking the trembling in Weismann had lessened to a manageable level, but Kokujoji was convinced that moving would cause it to start up again. He wanted to finish up here, get Weismann settled safely for the night, and then begin the necessary preparations for the long term stay of the Silver and Red Kings, one of whom would be an invalid. It would take time and much thought to plan for all of the contingencies that were likely to occur from the plan that his friend had just outlined.

"Right now, I need to re-open the links between Mikoto and his body, and begin to send power to him in order to start the healing and preservation process. I also need to confirm that he understands enough of what's going on that he knows he needs to remain in the Slate."

"Ah yes, I 'overheard' you attempting to communicate with him earlier. You appeared to be utilizing primarily images and emotions. Why was that?" The Gold King questioned.

Weismann laughed sheepishly. "Well you see, the process of dying is apparently similar to reaching unconsciousness via the application of blunt-force trauma to the head. It knocks you out, and even after you begin to wake up, things can be more than a bit muddled thanks to the resulting concussion. It seems to be the same here. Mikoto isn't really 'awake' right now, and he's only able to process the most direct and basic communication. Even then, it isn't like he's consciously listening, but rather things are filtering in through the haze. I'm trying to lock in the concepts I'm attempting to convey by 'phrasing' them in such a way that they resonate with him. That's why in order to make sure he knew that he needed to remain within the Slate, I emphasized that he would be hurting the people he cares about if he didn't. That's a concept that he can understand no matter how fuzzy his head is, apparently! Now, first things first…." Weismann began to make his way out of the capsule and to a standing position. Kokujoji moved to support him, and ended up acting as a leaning post for his friend, whose legs wouldn't hold his weight. "I need to get to Mikoto's body."

The two made their way across the few feet between the two capsules, and Weismann immediately placed his hand on the glass, smiling down at the one inside sadly. "I won't let anyone else die. That statement includes you, Suoh Mikoto." So saying, his body began to glow with a silver light, flowing into the Slate beneath them and encompassing the capsule below his hand. A few moments later, the light began to die down as Weismann dismissed his power, until only a faint silver glow was left on both the capsule and the center of the Slate. "The connection between body and soul is re opened, and he's receiving my power properly. It also seems like his soul knows to remain where it is, so that's all settled." He attempted to stretch his arms above his head, and would have fallen had it not been for the timely intervention of the Gold King. He chuckled and tiredly turned his attention to his old friend. "So, keeping in mind that 250 meter radius I mentioned, you said something about food and rest?"

The Gold King sighed in exasperation, and began maneuvering the two of them towards the exit. "You're as troublesome as always. There are a few empty suites of rooms on the 2 floors above this one. They should fall within the required distance. I'll put you there tonight, and see about redecorating another for Suoh's use in 3 months time. First and foremost, let us see about meeting immediate needs. Everything else can be dealt with at a later point in time."

"I have a lot of things I need to tell you about too, later. A ton of things happened recently! I even gained two clansmen of my very own! One of them is a cat-girl named Neko who hates wearing clothes, and the other is Kuroh, a samurai who… "

Weismann's excited babble faded as the doors slid shut behind the pair, leaving behind a dark, silent room, the only light the silver gleam emanating from the capsule containing the body of the much loved Red King, and the Slate positioned below it.

* * *

A.N.: And that wraps up chapter 1. Please review! I need all the helpful encouragement I can get, here. T-T


	3. Chapter 2

**K Fanfic:**** SoulBound**

**Characters: **It's supposed to be Mikoto and HOMRA centric, with side doses of Munakata and Fushimi, and guest appearances by a variety of others. I _will_ force it back on that path soon, but somehow, the beginning chapters got hijacked by Shiro and the Gold King, of all people. _You have been warned!_

**Pairings:** Lots of bromance between Mikoto and just about everyone else. If I do add in an actual pairing, it will probably be YataxMikoto, with a helping of KusanagixMikoto and MunakataxMikoto, but I don't know yet.

**Summary:** "I won't let anyone else die." Shiro was going to stand by those words come hell or high water, even if he had to resort to a risky, complicated, time-consuming, and near-impossible plan to do it. There _would_ be a happy ending to this story. (A "for the sake of my continued sanity, let's try bringing back Shiro and Mikoto!" fanfic)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not K, not its characters, and not any of the other animes I might have drawn from for character inspiration.

**_Beware_**_:_ The first few chapters are a bit slow and information dense. They're _completely necessary_ in order to build the framework for the rest of the story, but I wouldn't call them indicative of the tone of the later chapters, as they'll be much more character and relationship based. If you can brave your way through these first few chapters, I promise it gets better! ^.^

* * *

Chapter 2:

_Monday, December 24th_

One week later found Shiro sitting in the breakfast nook of his new suite inside the Gold Tower, enjoying a scone and tea while watching the morning activities take place down below through the surrounding windows. With one day left until Christmas, the bustle was even more hectic than usual, with people making last minute preparations for the holiday. Shiro himself had been too busy with other things to do anything in that regard, barely having the time to register Christmas' approach, let alone think about things like presents and decorations. He enjoyed being able to pause for a moment and watch the holiday activities taking place outside the Tower each morning.

The set of rooms provided for him where very nice, with a small kitchen area, a living room with comfortable couches and armchairs and huge windows lining one wall, a breakfast nook, 2 bedrooms, and a bathroom. It was more of a small apartment than anything. What his friend might need such rooms for Shiro didn't know, but knowing the Lieutenant, they could simply exist on the off chance that they might come in handy. He was always a step ahead when it came to preparedness, it seemed.

It had truly been a hectic week for everyone involved, he mused. The Lieutenant had come through for him as always, taking care of the more mundane problems often before Shiro even registered them, which left Shiro able to focus on Mikoto. And that was a full time job in and of itself.

It wasn't just power he needed to provide for the young man, which was draining in itself, but also mental stimulation as well. Even if Mikoto couldn't easily communicate with words, and wasn't what many would consider fully conscious, he still needed to receive outside stimulus. Without a body, he didn't have any of his normal senses such as sight, touch, and hearing, and his sense of time was also consequently inaccurate. It could be considered similar to being in a sensory deprivation chamber. Without other people communicating with him from outside the Slate, he could easily go mad, or fall into a kind of vegetative state in an effort to instinctively shield himself, and who knows if he would ever recover from that.

Thankfully the Lieutenant had clansmen with mental abilities that enabled them to help, and the Gold King himself had taken time from his busy schedule every so often in order to offer what aid he could, as well. They were currently running on a schedule of rotating work shifts, with Shiro being one of the primary caretakers. It didn't matter whether they were using words or emotions and visuals in order to communicate, as long as they didn't leave Mikoto alone for longer than an hour or two. Responses back from the young man were mostly in the latter two categories, as he would have had to use much more power for the former, and Mikoto simply didn't have the reserves to put such effort forth often, if at all. 'Not that he seems to be that big of a talker at the best of times, anyway.' Shiro thought, chuckling to himself in amusement.

Shiro leaned forward, picking up his teacup from its place on the medium-sized, round breakfast table and bringing it to his mouth for a drink, sighing in contentment. It was a nice black tea, clearly imported from Europe. It also happened to be one of his favorites. Well, he shouldn't expect anything less from the Lieutenant. The Gold King may already be swamped in planning for the long term consequences of this situation, but he certainly wasn't going to let little details slip through the cracks. He was a firm believer in the saying "the devil is in the details", after all. He had even taken up the task of searching for Kuroh and Neko in Shiro's place.

Shiro sighed, setting his teacup delicately back on its saucer and leaning back tiredly in his chair. He would have liked to search for them himself, but that pesky 250 meter business meant that he couldn't leave this place. The Gold King had sent teams out to search for them, but they didn't want to scare them off, and thus were limiting the use of their abilities and keeping things as low-key as possible. Between this and Neko's ability to hide using her illusions, the search was going much more slowly than he would have liked. He could sense their general location, and could tell that they were definitely still within the city, but without getting closer he couldn't do much more than that. He could only hope that they were found soon, and pray for their safety until then.

The sound of a firm knock, followed by his door opening, pulled Shiro from his thoughts. He glanced up, smiling. "Good morning, Lieutenant! Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough. Good morning, Weismann." Kokujoji replied, moving to take a seat across the table from Shiro, where a second place was already set for breakfast, and poured himself a cup of tea. "The worst of the planning is now done, and that which needs to be set into motion has been. I've set about the remodeling of one of the suites on this floor, to change its function to that of a hospital room which can be used for the first few weeks of Suoh's recovery." He paused, taking a sip of his tea before continuing, " As for later, after taking into account your requirement of him remaining within a relatively short distance from the Slate for the following months, I believe that I have found a solution to his housing needs then as well. Continuing to keep him confined here in the Tower, especially after his clan learns of his return, seems ill-advised. I own an apartment building less than two blocks from here. It is primarily used as housing for my employees, including both the doctor who will be his primary physician as well as the members of the team I wish to assign to him for his continued safety during this stressful time. After you confirm that the distance is acceptable, I will set about renovating one of the larger apartments, making it functional for someone who will, at least for a time, be both disabled as well as in poor health. From your description of his state upon revival, I imagine that that young man has months in a wheelchair to look forward to, at the very least." Kokujoji began eating the more traditional Japanese breakfast laid out before him, pausing only to raise an eyebrow in inquiry at Weismann.

Shiro laughed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "That's the Lieutenant for you! Always thinking ahead! I hadn't thought about any of that. Well, I'd say anywhere closer than 3 city blocks should be alright, actually, and he'll be able to travel as far as 6 blocks for short periods of time as long as he visits the Slate for a while every day. Speaking of housing, is Saya-chan one of the residents of that apartment building by any chance?" Shiro asked, looking as the Gold King curiously.

"Haruno Saya? She is. She's one of the members of the team I wish to assign to him, as well as the younger sister of the doctor, as a matter of fact. I take it she has made herself useful, then?" Kokujoji enquired.

"She most certainly has! Her abilities are perfect for this kind of situation, actually. I remember you saying that you had a clansman with strong mental gifts, but I never imagined someone with her scope! Empathy, telepathy, and the ability to create mental bonds, both temporary and permanent, between people, she really is astounding!" Shiro finished excitedly.

"I take it you did read at least some of my letters over the last 50 years, then, as the only time I'd previously mentioned her to you was in them." Kokujoji replied, face impassive.

"I read all of them, of course! Even if I never responded to a single one of them, I _did_ treasure your letters, Lieutenant. They were always full of such interesting things!" Shiro responded, a sad smile on his face.

"Then I will consider them a good investment, if they could hold your attention for any length of time, oh flighty one." The Gold King responded dryly, hiding a pleased smile behind his teacup.

"You're so mean! But back to the topic of Saya-chan, she really surprised me that first morning! I hadn't thought of the consequences of leaving Mikoto alone at first, and when I finally realized and rushed back, she was already there, camped out at the Slate with a bunch of pillows and a picnic basket, chatting cheerfully with him. Or should I say, _at him_. He wasn't in any state to respond back then, after all, but that didn't seem to bother her in the least! She's quite an upbeat and cheerful girl! She was also the one who brought up the possibility of Mikoto needing some emotional and mental healing when he returns to his body. She'd be perfect for assessing that when he returns, and if necessary, looking after him in that regard, too. But why are you assigning a team to look after Mikoto? I can see why medical personnel would be prudent, but what about the rest?"

"Putting aside the fact that separating Saya from her very protective fiancée for any length of time is quite the task, as I am sure you have noticed in your dealings with them, there are those who would take advantage of the current situation of the Red King, both politically as well as through physical means. He is without his clan to protect him in his current state, and any large uses of his powers would be ill-advised, I'd imagine, both in regards to his health as well as the state of his Sword. The team I wish to assign specializes in protection and bodyguard work for those under high levels of threat, particularly from multiple or unidentified sources." Kokujoji finished.

"That sounds like a good idea, when you put it that way. Regarding the Sword of Damocles issue, I actually have a few plans in mind that I want to try out. This is the first time that a King has become the clansman of another King, after all, and it opens up our options. It seems that he can handle using more of my Sanctum's power than an ordinary clan member can, and continually drawing small amounts of it doesn't seem to negatively affect him, either! In fact, it's his natural response! Since he has been technically dead, the Slate has currently withdrawn his title as Red King. While I'm positive that it will be returned to him upon his revival, this is actually quite the good thing for us, as it 're-sets the clock' for him, if you will, returning his Sword to the perfect condition he originally received it in. I think that once his soul is returned, I can tie the Silver clan's inviobility directly to his Sword, using that to prevent it from deteriorating again. It will mean that he won't be able to use that piece of the clan's power for anything else ever again, and he'll have to continually be funneling power from the Silver Sanctum, but I think that he won't be bothered much by that. Kings are used to having their powers always in the 'on' mode, after all. He can still use the gravity manipulation, though! It will be fun to teach him how to fly!" Shiro finished with an excited chuckle.

The Gold King shook his head, feeling a moment of pity for Suoh. Weismann seemed to have decided to take the Red King technically being his clansman to heart, considering him more a baby chick in need of care and teaching than anything else. Already, whenever Weismann was speaking to Suoh in the Slate, it usually consisted of an endless stream of technical babble with the occasional story to emphasize one of his 'educational points.' He was surprised Suoh hadn't entered that much-feared vegetative state simply to escape the man's incessant and incomprehensible prattle. Kokujoji decided that now would be a fine time to question his friend on the matter.

"I will admit to being surprised as to your level of attachment to Suoh, Weismann. From what I have been able to deduce, you haven't exchanged more than a few sentences at most with the young man while he was alive and fully conscious. What we receive from him now shouldn't be enough for one to form such a positive impression."

Shiro laughed softly, "We did share soul space for a while there, you know. That kind of experience isn't something you come away from without a certain level of mutual exchange. I learned a lot about him during that time, especially when it comes to things like his personality and emotions. The same can be said for Suoh; he learned the same things about me. That means that even if we haven't talked to one another properly, the two of us _do_ know each other surprisingly well when it comes to the important things! It will make for an interesting friendship, I'm sure!"

Yes, Kokujoji found that he was definitely feeling sorry for the young man. Already declared a friend by Weismann without any input on his part, huh? Well, regardless of how things turned out in that regard, it should make for an entertaining spectacle for those observing, at the very least. It was never boring when his old friend was around, that was for sure.

"You mentioned having multiple plans in regards to the Sword issue. The others would be?" Kokujoji said, drawing the conversation back to the previous topic of discussion. It was always better to find out about any plans of Weismann's in advance; it allowed for pre-emptive damage control, if nothing else.

"The others involve the maintaining of his health, not only physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. This will lower the amount of power he needs to direct from the Silver Sanctum in order to prevent damage to his Sword, and the level of effort he needs to expend in order to do so. The best option there involves both the members of his clan and the use of certain aspects of Saya's powers, but I won't know if what I have in mind will work until I meet them, so I won't go into detail on that just yet, if you don't mind. No point in planning for it if it isn't even possible!" Shiro finished, emitting another sheepish chuckle.

Kokujoji found himself vehemently disagreeing with that thought internally; it was always better to plan ahead for Weismann's shenanigans than to let them catch you unaware and underprepared. He would have to give this matter some thought later, and put into place some contingency plans based upon any of the possibilities he could manage to think of using the vague description Weismann had just given him. It would probably all be for naught in the end, as he would in all likelihood still be surprised by whatever his old friend ended up doing, but if nothing else it would make him feel better in the interim. Having finished with the more serious matters, the two moved their conversation onto lighter topics, slowly continuing the process of catching up on half a century worth of missed time.

They were interrupted by the arrival of a Gold clansman, who bowed upon entering. "My apologies for interrupting you during your breakfast, Your Majesties, but we have finally managed to come into contact with the two individuals you requested that we locate. We have them on the phone right now. They are demanding to speak with someone named "Shiro". We are unsure of who this is, and thought that, as their King, you might know the answer, Weismann-sama." The man finished nervously, indicating the cell phone in his hand uncertainly.

"Yes , yes! That would be me! Isana Yashiro is the name I've gone by for the majority of the time that I've known them. They're asking to speak to me." Shiro said, his heart leaping in his chest, hurriedly standing up and making his way towards the Gold clansman. He held his hand out for the cell phone, which was quickly handed over. "Hello? Kuroh, Neko? Is that you?"

"Shiro?" Kuroh's voice spoke, the question coming hesitantly, and Shiro suddenly remembered that they had never spoken to him in his original form, and thus wouldn't recognize his voice. This could be tricky.

"Yes, Kuroh, this is Shiro. I'm back in my original body. Feel free to ask me something only I would know if you need to confirm it. Are you both alright?" Shiro asked.

"We're both in good health, thank you. As to a question, I am unsure as to what might be appropriate in these circumstances…" Kuroh trailed off, only to be interrupted by Neko.

"I know, I know! When Kuroh first met Neko, what did he do?" Neko's excited voice drifted down the line.

Shiro laughed, looking back on what had been quite a stressful time and seeing the humor in it. "He tried to get you to put some clothes on, of course. He then chased us around the school for the rest of the day. You drew all over his face, too. Poor Kuroh!"

"Shiro! It's Shiro! It's Neko's Shiro, Kuroh!" Neko chirped happily.

"Indeed, it would appear so. Might we know where you are? The Gold clansmen with us say you are at the Gold Kings Tower…." Kuroh responded.

"Yup! I'm staying here for the time being. The Gold clansman can transport you here quickly, so you should go with them. The circumstances here are a bit complicated, but I'll definitely explain it all when you get here. Oh, and Kuroh? I have an important task I was hoping you'd do once you arrive." Shiro said seriously.

"And what might that be?' Kuroh asked curiously.

"Well you see, my hair in my current body is way too long, and I want to cut it in a style similar to the one I had when I was with you two. Do you think you can do it? You seem to be good at cooking and sewing and such, so I thought that I'd ask you!" Shiro responded cheerfully.

A longsuffering sigh from the other end was his answer. "You are indeed Shiro. Only he would ask me to accomplish such a frivolous task in such a grave manner. Understood, my King. We will be arriving at your location shortly. Please gather the necessary tools, such as a comb and a pair of scissors. Also, _be prepared_ to give your explanation _in full_ regarding those 'complicated circumstances' you mentioned earlier. Be safe." And with that, the phone call was abruptly terminated.

Shiro let out a relieved sigh, before handing the phone back to the waiting clansman. "Thank you for finding them for me! Please bring them right here when they arrive. And also, two more breakfast settings, if you wouldn't mind? Traditional Japanese cuisine should work. I'm sure that they haven't been eating enough in the past week." Shiro finished, before turning his gaze to the Gold King. "Thank you, my friend. I wouldn't have been able to find them without your help."

The Gold King smiled softly, replying "It is good to see you forming bonds with others again, Weismann. For a long time, I believed that you would be forever alone, drifting through the sky and connecting with nothing and no one. It does an old man good to be proven wrong in this regard."

"Yeah. I'm finally beginning to move forward again, after such a long time of staying in place. I'm sure that there will be a lot of fun and exciting things to look forward to from now on!' Shiro responded, grinning cheerfully at his old friend. This was the best Christmas present he could have asked for! Good times were certainly going to come from now on. Not just for himself and his clan, but for others as well. He would make sure of it.

* * *

A.N.: End chapter 2! From here on out, things begin to pick up speed. Please review! Even just a one-liner telling me a single thing you liked about the story so far would be _treasured_ by me! I really need all the encouragement I can get, to be honest. ;_;


	4. Chapter 3

**K Fanfic:**** SoulBound**

**Characters: **It's supposed to be Mikoto and HOMRA centric, with side doses of Munakata and Fushimi, and guest appearances by a variety of others. I _will_ force it back on that path soon, but somehow, the beginning chapters got hijacked by Shiro and the Gold King, of all people. _You have been warned!_

**Pairings:** Lots of bromance between Mikoto and just about everyone else. If I do add in an actual pairing, it will probably be YataxMikoto, with a helping of KusanagixMikoto and MunakataxMikoto, but I don't know yet.

**Summary:** "I won't let anyone else die." Shiro was going to stand by those words come hell or high water, even if he had to resort to a risky, complicated, time-consuming, and near-impossible plan to do it. There _would_ be a happy ending to this story. (A "for the sake of my continued sanity, let's try bringing back Shiro and Mikoto!" fanfic)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not K, not its characters, and not any of the other animes I might have drawn from for character inspiration.

**Author's Note:** This chapter marks the beginning of the story's pace picking up speed! Finally! ^.^

* * *

Chapter 3:

~3 Months Later~

_Monday, March 18__th_

Shiro once more found himself in the room housing the Dresden Slate, a place he had become intimately familiar with over the course of the last three months. He was accompanied this time by Kuroh who, upon hearing of the task he intended to perform tonight, had insisted upon going with him. The two had left Neko safely tucked in bed, sleeping soundly after eating a delicious dinner, courtesy of Kuroh. Tomorrow, everything would be ready for Mikoto's revival. That made tonight Shiro's last chance if he wanted to accomplish this.

"Are you sure that this is truly necessary, Shiro? You said previously that you believed that this path was the correct one to take. Why do you feel the need to do this now, when the goal is so close at hand?" Kuroh inquired, clutching the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist in agitation. The Gold King had graciously agreed to allow him to carry Kotowari with him within the Tower upon learning of Kuroh's resolve to only draw it under the circumstances dictated by his late master, Miwa Ichigen. He had found that having it at his side brought him much comfort in times of stress, such as the one he found himself in now.

"This is the _only_ time it's safe for me to do this, actually." Shiro replied, running his hand through his recently-shortened hair. Between that and the update of his wardrobe to include more modern clothing such as plain button-down shirts, jackets, and slacks, he was feeling much more mentally balanced and in touch with the current time. "I couldn't do this earlier without risking having Mikoto expend too much of what little remains of his energy, but seeing as everything is coming to a conclusion tomorrow, it should be alright if I do this now, as long as I'm careful."

"But is it something you need to do at all?" Kuroh repeated. He had been trying to dissuade his friend from his chosen course for the past two days. Shiro was sure that if he wasn't so proper, he would be attempting to rip his long black hair from his head in frustration. "This isn't the same as mental contact between the minds of two individuals. Sending your mind _into_ the soul of another person is a dangerous maneuver, for both parties involved. Is this truly something you have to do?"

"It is. I need to confirm that this is what Mikoto wants. I can make a decision based upon the impressions I've received from him, but that isn't true voluntary consent. It skates too close to human experimentation without the knowing and _knowledgeable_ consent of the subject, which is something I absolutely won't do, no matter what." The mere thought of it had Shiro flinching internally. "All of the communications we've been receiving from him are vague at best, and they could easily be misinterpreted. It's been a bit like charades at times, to be honest." Shiro sighed, fiddling with the end of his shirt. "Plus, while most of his emotions would indicate that he would be alright with being revived given the circumstances, there is also a certain level of contentment, of being _at peace_ with his death, mixed in as well. That's why I need a strong, clear answer from Mikoto. In order to gain that, I have to force him into a level of full consciousness, which he hasn't been able to reach previously, make sure that he understands what we intend to do and what the results of it will be for him, and then receive a clear yes or no answer from him. Otherwise, I'd be doing this based on my own desires, rather than his. And as he's the one who will be bearing the brunt of the consequences, that isn't something that I should do." Shiro finished, a determined look settling on his face.

Kuroh sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat upon seeing the look on his Kings face. There was no helping it, then. "Alright, I understand. As you will be focusing your attentions into the Slate, and thus leaving your physical self vulnerable, I will stand guard over you as you accomplish this task." It was obvious that this wasn't something up for discussion, but rather Kuroh bluntly informing Shiro of how things were going to proceed if he intended to continue with this course of action.

Shiro found himself laughing, relief rushing through him. While he would have done this with or without Kuroh's acceptance, as he felt it was something that _had_ to be do, having his friend agree with his plan was much more preferable. "That sounds great! I shouldn't take more than half an hour at the longest, preferably less than that. It will depend on how well Mikoto takes in the information and how fast he can come to a decision."

With that, Shiro sat down cross-legged on the glass floor, leaning back against the capsule containing Mikoto's body, and beginning to call on his powers. The Slate's previous gentle silver glow grew brighter as he shut his eyes, concentrating on the bond between himself and the Red King. He needed to bring Mikoto as close to himself as he could without removing his soul from the protection of the Slate. It was a delicate balancing act, but he managed it.

He then turned his attention to drawing the soul as close to full consciousness as it could safely reach. He needed Mikoto to fully understand everything he was about to tell him. And, unknown to Kuroh, he intended to pass on more than just the information about their goal and its consequences. He may be unwilling to move forward without Mikoto's consent, but that didn't mean that he couldn't stack the deck in favor of his preferred outcome. Even now, he could sense the contentment that Mikoto felt in regards to his death radiating out from him. Shiro knew he needed to offer him a very good reason to want to return to life. And he intended to give him plenty. The Gold King had positioned members of his clan at several key locations in order to both watch over and observe the fractured Red clan. The information they received back was in no way heartening. Shiro planned to pass the basic details of those reports on to Mikoto during this session. If his impression of the Red King was at all accurate, it would be more than enough for Mikoto to choose the chaos of life over the peace of death.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Shiro directed his consciousness down the bond and into Mikoto's soul. This wasn't something any of them had dared to attempt previously, too concerned with what the added strain might do to Mikoto, but right now, it was his only option. He brought up as many mental shields as he could in order to limit the level of mental stress for the other, but knew that some level of damage would be caused by this, regardless. One didn't tread into the souls of others lightly, or without consequences. He could feel the intense pain caused by the intrusion drawing Mikoto to full awareness in the space of a heartbeat, his mental defenses raising around him. Shiro just managed to make it past them before they were able to close him out completely.

He abruptly found himself standing in a world made entirely of crimson and fire, a desolate landscape spreading out below his feet, and heat surrounded him on all sides, while above him the sky was dyed with beautiful red hues usually found only during the dawn or sunset of the day. What an interesting soul plane. He glanced around, attempting to locate any sign of Mikoto, but found none. He paused, reaching out as best he could with his senses, limited as they were by his shields. He could feel the other watching, a sharp, predatory mind observing his actions and judging his level of threat. Mikoto might recognize the touch of his mind after coming in contact with it so often over the course of the previous months, but that didn't make this any less of an unwelcome and uninvited intrusion.

He knew the moment that Mikoto found him to not be an immediate threat, feeling the intense pressure of that scrutiny pull back from him just a bit, mellowing into a more watchful caution, and allowing him some room to breathe. Shiro decided that this was as good as he was likely to get from the other, and quickly began to set into motion the next stage of things. Time was of the essence in this situation, after all.

"I apologize for the invasion, Mikoto-san." He knew that this was how most of the members of the Red clan addressed their King, and decided to use it in an effort to not upset him by being _too_ overly familiar. Time enough for that later, when every second wasn't so crucial. "It's been three months since the fight at the School Island. I don't know how much of what's been going on recently you've understood, but there are some things that you need to know, no matter what, and a choice that you have to make soon." So saying, Shiro swiftly held up a hand in front of him, concentrating on all of the things that he wished Mikoto to know about. A flex of power and will was all it took in this place. Instantly, dozens of silvery fragments came into being floating before him, resembling the shattered pieces of a mirror, a crystallization of thoughts, knowledge, and memories, given substance on the plane of Mikoto's soul.

"These contain everything you need to know. This is the fastest way for you to understand everything you need to in order to make your decision. Will you please show yourself and accept them?" Shiro found himself holding his breath in nervous anticipation, awaiting the others decision. If Mikoto refused, things would become very tricky for all parties involved. While that sense of cautious, patient watchfulness was ever-present, he also felt a thoughtful curiosity from Mikoto now, as well as a sense of quiet, almost anticipatory, amusement. The latter puzzled him until, with a gust of pressure, a huge bout of flames sprang up from the ground, rising high into the air and swirling like a cyclone a dozen meters from where Shiro stood. He yelped, reflexively jerking back from the fire even as it began to coalesce into a more solid form. A huge, golden-eyed lion manifested from the flames, towering over Shiro. This was the manifestation of Mikoto's mind that Shiro had been looking for since his arrival.

The two stood in tense silence, gazes locked, waiting for the other to make the next move. Finally, with what could only be described as an impatient and slightly irritated huff, the lion lowered its huge head down until it was almost eye level with the gleaming silver shards. Shiro could sense Mikoto probing them gently with his mind, a feeling of wary curiosity present. Just as Shiro was about to break the silence and try to explain further, Mikoto's golden gaze landed on him, pinning him in place as the mind that had previously been examining the fragments turned its scrutiny towards him, raking over him intently, searching for any signs of ill-intentions or deceit.

Finally, Mikoto withdrew, sitting back on his haunches. He seemed to pause for a moment in thought before, faster than Shiro could follow, his massive paw darted forward, scooping up the fragments of information and pulling them back towards himself. There was a flash of silver light as the shards made contact with the lion's chest, the information entering Mikoto's mind, his eyes drifting shut as he began to process it. This was what would likely be the most time consuming, Shiro thought, resting back on his heals as he observed the situation. How quickly Mikoto absorbed everything depended upon a number of variables, including his willingness to accept the knowledge, his dexterity and control of the mental and astral abilities inherent in all Kings, and his level of intelligence.

Shiro was thus surprised when, not even five minutes later, he found himself once again staring into the golden eyes of his companion. Mikoto had completed the task much faster than he had anticipated. He had underestimated the abilities of his fellow King quite a bit, it would seem. Mikoto was no longer thoughtful, but instead in a state of carefully controlled agitation, clearly displeased with something. Shiro could only hope that it wasn't the thought of being revived that had caused such a reaction. The wait for some form of response was agonizing, but he stayed quiet, knowing that he had done all that he could. From here on, the final decision rested with Mikoto alone.

After a few more moments of contemplation, Mikoto's mind reached for him once again, gently this time, tracing along the bond between them carefully. Shiro's mind was suddenly filled with a parade of images of the Red clansmen, accompanied by the sensation of sharp questioning and concern. It took him a moment to unravel what Mikoto wanted to know, but when he did, Shiro was quick to respond.

"Yes, all of the information regarding the state of your clan is true. They aren't dealing with your death well, if at all. They're fragmenting, falling apart. No one can fill the space you left behind. They need you." He kept it concise and straight to the point, no embellishments needed.

This revelation was met with weary resignation, the sense of an enormous burden that had been briefly put down being placed once more on Mikoto's shoulders, threatening to crush him. There was a moment of silence, Mikoto seeming to roll the information over carefully in his mind, looking at it from all possible angles and weighing the pro's and con's of the two options available to him. The image of a young man with light brown hair, dressed in a white button down shirt and jeans, and with a silver piercing glittering from the cartilage of his left ear, flashed unexpectedly through Shiro's mind from over the bond. He was smiling gently, and seemed to simply radiate a sense of calm reassurance and comfort, his soft caramel eyes warm and caring, "There's nothing to be afraid of. You're…." the voice trailed off, the remainder of the memory passing too quickly for Shiro to hear the rest of the accompanying words. He had the feeling that he wasn't meant to know them anyway, that this scene was something held close and precious by his companion, not meant to be shared. Suddenly, much to his astonishment, Shiro heard a deep, strong, soothing voice echo through the link, uttering a single phrase:

"Do it."

The command was absolute, filled with tired resolve and acceptance, no trace of hesitation to be found in Mikoto's voice. And with that, he found himself being forcefully and unceremoniously ejected from Mikoto's soul, feeling the other's exhausted mind sink once more into a lower level of awareness, even as Shiro abruptly returned to his own body. He drew in a deep gulp of air, leaning back against the cool metal of the capsule behind him, trying to sort out his racing thoughts. That had been an interesting experience, to say the least. Mikoto had expended quite a bit of power by interacting with him so directly. He hoped that the only consequence the young man suffered for it was the additional tiredness and lingering pain that he had sensed from him.

"Shiro? Are you alright?" Kuroh's concerned voice came from above him, pulling him from his internal musings. He glanced up at his worried friend, managing a reassuring grin.

"I'm fine, Kuroh. Everything went well." Shiro responded cheerfully, heaving himself to his feet and turning to face Kuroh properly. He then straightened his shoulders, his face utterly serious.

"He said yes. Mikoto agreed to let us bring him back." And with that declaration, the last stage of the plan was put into motion.

* * *

_Tuesday, March 19__th_

The time had finally arrived. The internal damage done to Mikoto had been completely healed. The medical staff was milling about Mikoto's capsule, preparing everything they would need, ranging from heart monitors and a breathing mask to bandages and the equipment for a blood transfusion. There was even a stretcher waiting to transport him once it was deemed safe to remove him from the capsule. The moment that Shiro finished the transfer, they would be set to act. 'Everything is almost ready. Just a bit longer now, Mikoto.' Shiro thought, watching the proceedings.

Shiro found himself suppressing a grin as a flash of long, red hair caught his attention. A surprising, and rather amusing, side affect had occurred during the healing process. Shiro had miscalculated the amount of energy needed for the various tasks he wanted to accomplish, and had actually ended up with a bit left over. It wouldn't have been enough to do anything useful, such as healing other injuries, and his control wasn't what it used to be, preventing Shiro from lessening the flow of energy without risking taking too much and causing damage to Mikoto. Leaving it undirected could be just as much of a problem. He had been left with the conundrum of what to do with the excess power.

In the end, he had picked a harmless function to direct the power towards. He had sent it towards Mikoto's hair, causing it to lengthen considerably over the last 3 months. The medical staff had balked at this, as it would be harder for them to maintain, and would end up interfering with their equipment later on. In an effort to avoid this, they had kept the parts they could reach without moving him, consisting of the front and sides of his head, in the same style as it had been originally, while letting the back grow as it pleased. The result was an interesting combination that had women cooing in pleasure whenever they saw it, much to the amusement of many of the males in the vicinity, Shiro included. He wondered how Mikoto would deal with it once he woke up. He'd probably cut it all off with the first sharp instrument he could get his hands on. Then again, he might not end up with much of a say in the matter. If Shiro remembered correctly, there was a young girl from the Red clan often seen by Mikoto's side. He had heard the Gold clansmen refer to her as the Princess of the Red clan. Shiro had the feeling that the final decision on the matter would end up falling to her, and if the reaction of the other members of her gender were anything to go by, well, Mikoto had better start investing in hair bands!

The clearing of a throat brought his attention to the pink haired, green eyed woman standing at his side. The lady was Doctor Haruno Tsunade, the top physician in the Gold Kings employ, a member of the Gold clan and the possessor of a formidable healing gift. She was assigned to be Mikoto's primary physician, and had been directing her staff with all of the skill and finesse of a master musical conductor, leaving nothing to chance when it came to the wellbeing of her patient.

"We're as ready as we're going to be. We've tried to plan for as much as possible, and we have even more equipment waiting upstairs in Suoh-sama's new quarters. Please feel free to start whenever you are ready, Weismann-sama." Tsunade stated, her voice strong and steady, no-nonsense despite her almost deferential phrasing. It was clear that she wanted him to stop dilly dallying and get to work.

"We'll start now, then. No time like the present!" Shiro said, casting one last glance around the room. The Gold King was positioned to one side, prepared to step in if anything unexpected happened. Kuroh was entertaining Neko upstairs, understanding the delicacy of the task about to be undertaken. Everyone was ready and accounted for. It was time to start. Shiro walked over to the capsule, still carefully positioned over the Slate, the glass covering slid back to allow access to the person contained inside. The medical staff had left the right hand side clear of equipment, leaving him a place to stand.

Shiro carefully placed his hand over Mikoto's heart, ignoring the blood-stained T-shirt. They hadn't been able to move him without risking further damage, which had made it impossible to change him into clean clothes. He could already tell that the medical staff was just itching to remove the offending items from their patient's person. Shiro shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate on what he was about to do. It would be beyond tragic to have gone through all of this only to mess everything up now do to a moment of distraction. Drawing on his power, he forced the fragile, weakened links between Mikoto's soul and body to open as far as they could. He could feel the echo of the pain this action caused from Mikoto's soul, and hastened to finish the process, removing his hand from Mikoto's chest and bringing both of his hands up to cup together at chest height.

He let his power flow down the bond he shared with Mikoto, utilizing the net formed from his power all those months ago to begin to draw his soul towards him. He was surprised to feel Mikoto keeping himself as still and quiet as possible, doing everything he could to not add to Shiro's burden or break his concentration. He hadn't realized that Mikoto had grasped enough of the situation to know that it would be helpful if he fought his soul's instinctive reaction to struggle against the process. It certainly made things much easier for Shiro. He quickly but carefully guided Mikoto's soul to rest directly below him within the Slate, and then pulled it into himself through his feet, using his body as a safe conduit for it to travel through, drawing it steadily upwards until it reached his chest, and then forcing it out of himself, catching the red orb of light gently between his cupped, glowing hands. Not wasting a moment, he then swiftly brought his hands down to Mikoto's chest, using them as conduits for his power and _pushing_ Mikoto's soul back into his body. The result was an incredible rush of power and a blinding flash of silver light.

As the light died down, Mikoto's eyes flew open, his chest heaving and body convulsing, before going completely limp. Shiro could see him struggling to draw in breath, blood beginning to seep from his remaining injuries, including the cut on his left cheek and the entrance and exit wounds caused by Munakata's sword. The medical staff wasted no time, rushing forward, moving Shiro forcefully out of the way. He managed to stagger back a few steps before sinking to the floor, too tired to stand anymore. It had really taken a lot out of him to push Mikoto's soul back into his body. He could hear Tsunade barking orders, directing her staff as they carefully maneuvered Mikoto out of the capsule and onto the more easily-accessible stretcher beside it. Bandages and gauze were flying, IV's and transfusions being started, and the breathing mask and various monitors were being applied, all under Tsunade's expert guidance. He felt a wave of distinct amusement when he noticed two of them quickly and diligently cutting Mikoto's clothes from his body, throwing them piece by piece into what looked suspiciously like a bio-hazards bag.

Shiro sensed the Gold King approaching, and looked up at him with a tired grin. "So, what do you think? Did I successfully fulfill some of my responsibilities as a King?" he teased.

"Yet again, I was able to witness a miracle brought about because of you, Weismann. You are forever full of surprises. I would say that you are more than on your way to being a good King." The Gold King smiled, watching the controlled chaos taking place around the stretcher. "Now if only you continue with this new-found sense of responsibility, just imagine what amazing things you might manage, hmm?" Kokujoji joked, turning to smirk down at his friend.

Shiro smiled back up at him, triumphant. "I just wanted to open up a path to a happier ending, that's all. With this, I'm sure that it'll all work out!" He finished, unknowingly echoing the dying words of a treasured member of the Red clan, Totsuka Tatara, whose untimely murder had marked the start of their current situation. It was only fitting that his words marked the conclusion, as well.

* * *

Elsewhere in Shizume City, a fragile, doll-like little girl with long white hair, wearing a beautiful red dress was making her way home alone from school. This was one of the rare occasions that Kamamoto hadn't been able to walk her home. He'd taken up the task of escorting Anna to the places she needed to be following the tragic events of December. Before that, taking her to and from school used to be _his _job. She shuddered, pulled the wool-lined hood of her shawl-like overcoat tighter around her in order to ward off the cold. While many would attribute such an action to the cool weather found in late March, Kushina Anna knew better. This ever-present chill had appeared at the same time as the color had seeped out of her world, and no amount of layers would ever be able to chase it away. Her one warm place, the place she had come to consider her true home, was no longer able to be found in this world.

Anna was jerked from her melancholy thoughts by an explosion of power washing over her senses. Her hands instinctively went to the pocket of her dress containing her marbles, an action born more out of familiarity rather than thought, as she had been unable to use them since _his_ death. Clutching them in her palm for comfort, she instead closed her eyes and reached out with her powers, determinedly searching for the source of the disturbance. If this was an approaching threat, then she needed to have as much information as possible when she warned the others.

Instead, her mind's eye was met with a sight she was sure she would never see again. A beautiful red light glowing in the dark, the prettiest shade she had ever encountered. Anna inhaled sharply, unable to believe her senses. But even as she probed further, bending all of her power as a Strain to the task, the sight didn't change. The familiar red light didn't waver, showed no sign of going out in fact, remaining stationary in the distance. Anna quickly opened her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest, clutching her marbles so tightly that they dug into the palm of her hands.

"Mikoto." The word was voiced in a reverent whisper, as though to speak it any louder might cause the source to disappear. And with that, Anna set off as fast as she could towards the source of that light, following its glow like a ship lost out at sea would follow the beam of a lighthouse back to shore. She was going to find it no matter what. She was going to find the one place she called home.

* * *

**Authors Note:** And so we reach the completion of Arc 1: Revival, and open the way to Arc 2: Recovery! We see the reintroduction of Homra to the plot via Anna, and Mikoto get's a bit of actual screen time this chapter, _finally_. The second Arc will be much more emotionally-driven, focusing on character relationships and development, as well as the aftermath of Mikoto's death and his subsequent revival. It _will_ focus primarily on Mikoto and Homra, even if I have to beat the story into submission! -_-


End file.
